Page 15 of Promise To Marry You
He shuffles over to the couch and drops down just as his cell phone starts going crazy, vibrating with what sounds like a hundred incoming messages. He glares down at it, and I instantly know who it is.
“Brother group chat?” I say with a light laugh.
Beckett gives me a sheepish grin. “Yeah, sort of. There’s a second chat now, with our cousin Leo and Kat’s fiancé Hunter in it as well, so it’s not just the four of us. Six dudes in one group chat; it’s intense at times.”
I gesture down to his phone. “Is that the brothers or the brothers plus the others?”
“Just the brothers.”
I tilt my head to the side. “What’s blowing it up right now?”
Once again, his cheeks flush slightly. “Uh…you, actually.”
My eyebrows raise as I take another sip of coffee. “Me? Why am I interesting enough for the Donnelly boys’ group chat?”
“Because they know we got home last night, and they want to make sure you’re okay.”
His quiet statement hits me hard. Somehow, I’d forgotten how his family can be. Arms wide open, ready to welcome anyone that matters into their fold. I never realized I mattered until the first time I came home with Beckett. His mom had my favourite foods prepared for dinner, all because Beckett told her what I liked. His older brother Max, who was in med school at the time, seemed genuinely interested in hearing my opinions on access to healthcare in rural Canadian communities. And his sister Kat was a hilarious shit-disturber, giving her brothers hell the entire time. For twenty-one-year-old me, who was used to either dorm life or Grandpa being my only source of pleasant company, it was a lot.
Good, but a lot.
Every time I’ve come back to Dogwood Cove and we go to visit his family, it’s the same. Loud, crazy, and energetic, but so full of love and happiness, it’s infectious. Truth be told, his family is the only example I have of positive relationships, and dare I say it, love. Claire and Dennis might as well be characters from a wholesome family sitcom or something with how well they work together and how open and giving they are with love and affection.
It makes me long for something like that. But all it takes is returning to Cliveden and my reality for that longing to disappear back under the mountain of doubt, fear, and defensiveness.
“Well, you can tell them I’m tired but good. And in need of a muffin from that bakery in town.”
Beckett smiles. “Good thing we have an in with the bakery owner. My cousin’s wife is close friends with Mila. If we leave soon, guaranteed she’ll have some set aside for her ‘friends and family’ crowd.”
I jump up immediately. “What are we waiting for?” I drain the rest of my coffee in one swallow, and march into the kitchen. “C’mon Beck. I need a muffin.”
Chapter eight
Beckett
I don’t know if I’m just seeing what I want to see, or if it’s really true, but Cam seems more relaxed with every minute that passes now that we’re home. Despite her nightmare last night, this morning she was back to normal.
She took an obscenely long shower, thankfully letting me go first before the hot water ran out, then once we were dressed she all but dragged me out the door demanding muffins.
Don’t get me wrong. I know being here isn’t the magical answer to everything. But it does something to me, seeing her so happy in my hometown.
We pass by the elementary school, and after flashing me a smirk, Cam takes off to the playground at a run. Good thing it’s Saturday and no kids are here because I’m pretty sure I know exactly what she’s about to do.
Five years ago, we went to Whistler with a group of friends from university. That weekend, one of my secrets was revealed, and Cam loves to rub it in my face. Good-naturedly, of course, but it still gets my pulse racing — and not in a fun way.
Sure enough, by the time I catch up with her, she’s climbed like a monkey to the top of the playground and is walking along the narrow rail at the top of the circular monkey bars.
I’m terrified of heights; Cam loves them. One of her life dreams is to go skydiving, whereas the very thought of hurtling out of a perfectly good airplane makes me nauseous.
I’ll hike up a mountain and stand at the lookout and appreciate the view quite happily, but you better believe, I’ll be several feet back. Cam would rather sit on the cliff with her legs dangling over the edge.
“I thought you wanted a muffin,” I grumble, keeping my eyes trained anywherebutup. If I don’t look at her up there, maybe I can fool myself into thinking she’s not currently ten feet off the ground.
“I do. But I also want to live a little. Taking risks doesn’t have to be scary, Beck.”
If only she could turn that attitude inward and see how she lets fear hold her back from taking any risks in her personal life.
“Listen, I take risks. I just don’t take ones that could end with broken bones.”
